


Is That A Sceptre In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

by birene (zeroambi)



Category: The Persuaders
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeroambi/pseuds/birene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to rosefox for the look-over.</p></blockquote>





	Is That A Sceptre In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joandarck](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=joandarck).



"Ever heard of knocking in the U S of A?" Brett asked irritated, as Danny stumbled into his room.

"What are you talking about? We practically invented it. The Rolling Stones, the Doors..."

"I said knocking, not rocking!"

"Well, sorry, I got lost. This stately home makes the needle cry for the haystack, my friend," Danny rambled, nonsensically as ever. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," said Brett, but looked somewhat self-conscious.

"Oh, that sounds fascinating. Tell me more," Danny said jokingly, as he threw himself beside Brett on top of the bed, feigning interest.

Brett sighed and agitatedly ran one hand through his hair. He tried to fish for a magazine from the end table with the other to shield his nether regions, but Danny, of course, had already caught a glimpse of the rather prominent bulge in his pants.

"Is that a sceptre in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" he asked, sounding amused.

"No wonder people think you Yankees have no manners." Brett glared at his friend.

"Threw that overboard with the tea, I'm afraid," Danny said matter-of-factly.

"Okay, you win." Brett made a face. "I was just about to get my hands on a rerun of `The Little Lord Sinclair' when you disrupted me so disdainfully. Happy now?"

"Not yet. But I could help you with that, if his lordship so pleases," Danny offered, pointing at Brett's erection.

"You should get a patent on that eye fluttering thing you've got going on there, you could make a fortune."

"But I already have a fortune."

"Not after our next poker night, mark my words," threatened Brett.

Danny shrugged. "Pah. I'll just cheat."

"Sometimes I find your lack of decorum most distressing."

"Says the guy who had an alliteration-orgy with Bambi, Barbie and Betsy last week and wouldn't even invite me. Where was the decorum then, your royal weirdness?"

"Half of my family line was gruesomely killed and all you can think of is sex?" Brett complained.

"Hey, you started it! And what do you think my aunt and your uncle are doing right now, huh?"

Brett's facial expression changed from annoyed to terrified. "I could have gladly lived on without that nail-curling image, thank you very much."

"I can't help it. You always look so fetching with the duke's crown, even in the pitiful state it's in now," Danny said.

"I'll have you know that I always look fetching, with or without headdress," declared Brett.

"True dat," Danny leaned in and gave him a big, wet kiss, pushing his tongue deep into Brett's hot, noble mouth. As he tried to wriggle one hand into his pants, Brett caught it and held him back.

"Ever wondered what Judge Fulton would say to this?" he asked.

"Would probably want to watch, the creepy old fucker," Danny decided after some short contemplation. He started to unbutton Brett's shirt with his free hand.

"You know, we maybe would never have met without him," Brett mused.

"What? You want to send him a thank-you card? Maybe with a nice bottle of cognac? Apropos cognac, do you remember the rotgut they served on that Swiss Alpine hut? Should that be illegal or something? Maybe Judge smartass could ... "

"Daniel?"

"Whut?"

"Shut up," Brett said impatiently, pushing Danny's head down, as he knew exactly how to make him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to rosefox for the look-over.


End file.
